


Darkstripe's Tryst

by SomeoneImSure



Series: The Evils of Darkstripe [2]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Casual Murder, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Cumdump, Dominant/Submissive, Dubious Consent, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Incest, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Marking, Multi, Parent/Child Incest, Pedophilia, Penile Spines, Sex, Spraying, Talk of murder, pissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-08-07 18:52:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16413947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeoneImSure/pseuds/SomeoneImSure
Summary: If Darkstripe had thought of it and wasn't so attracted to Tigerclaw, he would have done it. After all, it was two opportunities too good to pass up and he does deserve a reward for his services. Especially when the alternative is just so... unpleasant. And cores just feel so good.These were just going to be two snippets that explore that idea. Now it's starting to evolve into something else...





	1. Darkstripe X Fernpaw

Darkstripe led Fernpaw into a tiny grove. The roar of monsters gnawing through trees drowned out his own thoughts and worries.

_I deserve this. I deserve a mate and kits. Fernpaw should be glad she had me as a mate._

He turned to his apprentice and pressed his mouth to her ear. "Drop into a crouch. I'll adjust you into the right position."

Fernpaw looked confused but was determined and dropped into a hunting crouch, lashing her tail in excitement.

Darkstripe felt dark excitement ignite in his belly as he smelled her heat, as she obeyed and crouched. After she reached eight moons, he had thought about this every time she had practiced her hunting crouch. 

He stepped over her haunches and grabbed a mouthful of fur. Fernpaw made noise but the monster drowned her out.

Darkstripe kinked his tail over his back for his foresight. He could feign ignorance of her complaints later, pretend it was all a big misunderstanding.

 _I was just trying to teach you the mating crouch,_ he imagined himself saying in his own defense. _It's a normal part of warrior training, but we don't talk about it because it's only for grown-up cats and we don't want kits and young apprentices overhearing._  

His groin felt like it was on fire.

She struggled briefly but her mating instincts quickly took over, her hindlegs standing up, her mews incoherent and confused, her tail whipping out of the way. He plunged right in, his legs working their way up to her sides as he rammed as deep as he could go, her warmth and wetness sucking him deep into her tightness. He stopped when he was fully inside, her tunnel wrapping around his penis, filling him with pleasure. Her confusion dissolved into pleasure as she relaxed.

Darkstripe felt dark amusement fill him, imagining her pained yowl for when he pulled out. His penile barbs were undetectable going in, but would painfully scrape her walls, encouraging pregnancy, on the way out. He waited until he had cummed twice, remembering when he mated with Brindleface and how it was hard for him to impregnate a queen, before yanking out.

Fernpaw yowled, but the monsters drowned out the noise. She bolted forward, but Darkstripe leaped and grabbed her scruff before she could ran for camp.

He pinned her under his weight as he shoved his nose into her ear. "Calm down! Didn't anyone tell you?" He played up his innocence, his voice oily and convincing. "It's just a practice mating crouch!"

Fernpaw didn't relax, but when Darkstripe let her go she didn't bolt. Pleased, he waited for her to lick her core and clean her ruffled fur. He shifted his hips, feeling his penis spines catch in his thigh-fur and scrape his own skin. He waited until she stopped grooming and had given him a glance, studying him in case he attacked her again. Then he padded forward, ignoring her twitch, and sniffed her core, her scent, but she didn't seem pregnant. His whiskers drooped in disappointment but he hid it behind his sophisticated expression.

He padded back to her ear. She shuddered at his breath, but didn't pull away. Good. "Now, let's practice your hunting crouch!"

He watched her practice her hunting crouch, fully aware there were no prey around for her to actually hunt, but he had to make it seem normal. He couldn't let her go back to camp thinking this was unusual or something worth talking about. If the other warriors knew what he had done, he wouldn't be just exiled.

He led her back to camp when sunhigh passed, and told her his explanation for why he couldn't talk about it in camp. He gave her a taste of his charm and gave an un-apology, pretending his ignorance until he saw acceptance on her face and forgiveness there. He told her that he was planning to do it again soon, and she looked both uncertain and enchanted by the idea. Finally, satisfied she wouldn't think twice about it, Darkstripe asked her to keep the secret.

"After all," he meowed with a knowing wink, "we wouldn't want our kits and younger apprentices overhearing us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have made a few minor edits since first post and am currently thinking about continuing this by two chapters. Like, who wants to know what happened to his victims? I do. Do you want to know what happens to his victims? BECAUSE I SURE DO.
> 
> I'M NOT WEIRDER THAN NORMAL.


	2. Darkstripe X Sorrelkit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorrelkit is such a cute kit. It would be such a shame if she died. It would be so much easier to just lure her away from the Clan and have his way with her. Why not do it?

"I'm on a secret mission," Darkstripe told Sorrelkit, watching her fluffy tail lash. How old was she? Three and a half moons? She barely reached his chest. Not old enough to be made a mate, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself before she died. His paws kneaded the ground in pleasure. "Want to come with me? I have another meeting on the other side of ThunderClan territory. A smart and brave kit like you can be an extra pair of ears for an old senile tom like me."

"Yes!" Sorrelkit looked ready for the adventure and mirrored his secretive crouch, wobbling all over the place.

Purring to himself, he led her away from ThunderClan camp and into treecutplace. The sound of silence made him nervous, and he comforted himself with the knowledge that ThunderClan never patrolled this part of the forest. The noise of the treecutters kept the kittypets away and protected the border, and the falling trees made it a hazard to navigate. To comfort himself, he traveled to the very edge of ThunderClan territory.

Sorrelkit struggled to keep up, unused to walking such a long distance, and eventually started to drag noisily behind. The noise in the strange silence almost irritated him, and Darkstripe glanced back at her, angrily, coming to a halt at very edge of ThunderClan territory and behind a kittypet fence. He didn't smell any kittypets and felt some disappointment. 

"Are we there yet?" she asked, coming to a stop behind him. Her kit face looked up at him curiously, eyes wide and innocent.

Darkstripe smiled, showing all his teeth. "Yes." He stepped around her, circling her, studying her pelt, snatching glimpses of her core. "You're a big grown up kit, aren't you?"

Sorrelkit fluffed out her fur. "Yes! I'm the oldest kit in the nursery!"

Darkstripe nodded to himself, showing her another smile. "That means you're old enough to understand what it means to be a warrior and a queen."

Sorrelkit hesitated, not entirely sure if she was, but she put on a serious face and nodded. "Yes!" After all, every kit wanted to become a warrior.

"So, let me teach you a crouch," he meowed, tail lashing in excitement. "Lower your shoulders and head, but keep your tail in the air."

Sorrelkit eagerly obeyed him. Her legs were stiff and she laid her head on the ground. "Is this good?"

Purring his approval, Darkstripe stopped at her rear and lowered his head to sniff her core. His tongue shot out, tasting her, and causing her to jump to her paws in shock.

"Who told you to stand up?" he half-snapped, forcing his fur flat and regained his composure. His voice dripped oil and mock concern. "It didn't feel bad, did it?"

"N-no," she confessed, confused and embarrassed and unsure, sitting down and curling her tail around her core. "Is this training?"

"It's special _adult_ training," he meowed soothingly. "You want to be an adult, right?"

"Yes..." Sorrelkit glanced down at her core in uncertainty.

Darkstripe smiled. "If it felt good, then you were obviously doing it right, you clever kit. You must have a special instinct for it."

Sorrelkit beamed at the praise, momentarily forgetting her embarrassment. "W-will you show me again?"

"Sure," he meowed. "Crouch your forelegs and keep your tail in the air."

She obeyed, displaying herself for him. He felt a hot liquid bubble in his groin, and he stepped towards her core, licking her core with his rough tongue. She shuddered but didn't jump away. Darkstripe purred and stepped around her hips, until she was completely under him.

"Am I doing okay?" Sorrelkit asked, looking over her shoulder.

"You're a natural," Darkstripe soothed, realizing that biting her without warning would surprise her too much. "I'm going to bite your scruff. Don't move, okay?" _As if you have a choice,_ he told himself in dark amusement.

She nodded seriously and waited, her muscles tensing. Darkstripe didn't tell her to relax, dark pleasure filling him at the thought of her squirming as he shoved himself inside. If she twitched and moved on his penis, his penile spines would scrap her insides and make her yowl and squirm harder. But then, he already told her if it hurt then she wasn't doing it right. Her only choice was to stay still and, if she didn't, it would be her fault.

He grabbed her scruff, mouthing up as much skin as possible between his teeth and tongue. She relaxed instinctively, which disappointed him slightly, but she fought it, tensing her muscles. He purred approval as he shifted his hindlegs to aim his penis, lining up with her small core. He savored the power of he held over, his position and his knowledge, before stabbing deep inside.

She jerked, half-yowled half-whimpered, and he stopped, feeling her small core fight his entrance and squeeze around his penis. She squirmed, kicking with a hindleg, whimpering some more. "P-please... it hurts..."

"Then you must be doing something wrong," he muttered at her. "Stay still."

Deliciously, she stilled, uncomfortable. He sucked in a satisfied breath and pushed himself slowly deeper, yanking down on her scruff to force her down on his penis. She was tight, too tight, but he stubbornly refused to pull out. A little of his seed coated her insides, anticipation worming into his belly, filling his groin with dark liquid. Her hindlegs trembled, threatening to give out. She let out a yowling whimper; he bit her scruff harder.

"A-are y-you done y-yet?" she asked, voice high with fear. She swallowed loudly. "P-please... D-darkstripe..."

A dark purr built up in his chest. "Stay still, Sorrelkit," he muttered, slowly working his way into her tight core. "A real warrior would be begging me for more, you know. They wouldn't complain. Do you want to be a real warrior?"

"Yes," the kit mewed, wincing. "B-but it burns..."

"Beg me for more," Darkstripe mewed, standing perfectly still. "Plead for more, Sorrelkit."

Sorrelkit kicked a hindleg out, but his hindlegs were around her hips. She mrrowed, desperate for relief.

Darkstripe felt a flash of anger. "You deserve to be punished, you know," he growled, feigning he was only talking aloud. "A kit deserves this pain when they wiggle under me when I've told them to _stand._ Still. You did this to yourself."

Sorrelkit became still again, whimpering. Darkstripe felt her sides shake, the vibration travel up his hindlegs. He purred. "Good, my little kit." He shifted his hips, feeling her twitch in pain. 

"Now," Darkstripe let go of her scruff and leaned over her so he was looking down into her eyes, "beg like a real warrior for more, clever little kit."

The response was almost instantaneous. "Please, Darkstripe."

His hips jerked involuntarily, and he grabbed her scruff, jerking as deep as he could go. He stayed there, feeling her tight walls crushing his penis. He held back his seed, fighting his desire to release, his member twitching aggressively. Slowly, a steady stream started to gush out. Sorrelkit gave a small relieved moan.

Despite her small core, he had conquered her. As a moment stretched on, she grew more and more relaxed underneath him.

"You feel better?" he asked her, voice oily smooth.

"Y-yeah," she confessed, tentatively moving a stiff hindleg. "I feel so full."

"Good," he told her, purring. He waited in silence for her crushing core to earn another load, which he unleashed inside of her. He remember he had planned to kill her and felt bad about it. Why kill such a valuable, moldable little kit? "Tell me, Sorrelkit. Don't you think I'll make a good mate?" Darkstripe asked her, trying not to sound like he was hopeful. He studied her expression for deceit.

"Yes," Sorrelkit whimpered.

Darkstripe purred, feeling his member twitch again and unleash another load. "I think you'll make a great mate, too. You're so still right now, Sorrelkit; I'm so proud of you. You're a natural, and you deserve to be here, under me, every single day. I'll make sure you're pleasured, filled with my hot sweet seed, so satisfied that you're full. Wouldn't you agree? Isn't that what a natural like you needs?"

Sorrelkit trembled, confused. "Darkstripe... please..."

He stabbed deep, shifting his weight and satisfied when his barb caught on her walls. "Please what?" he asked, sounding innocent with a hint of vaguely displeased.

"I-I want to go back to camp now," she pleaded.

Darkstripe growled low. "A kit who wonders away from camp doesn't deserve to go back."

He yanked himself out, spines scraping hard against her insides, causing her to yowl. He unleashed a final load over her tail and haunches. She lay shuddering on the ground, his seed dripping out of her core, beading on her fur. He walked around her, enjoying the sight of her spotted with seed and the seed dripping out of her core.

"You want to be a warrior, right?" Darkstripe asked her absently.

"I w-want..." Sorrelkit began. "I w-want to be a warrior."

He sneered. "Then, let me help you with that," he said nastily, lifting a leg and unleashing his water all over her, aiming for her face and front.

"Darkstripe!" yelped Sorrelkit, shocked, her eyes shut against the torrent of piss on her face. "Please s-stop."

He sat on her face, spraying his musk all over, marking her like he would a tree at the border.

"Stop!" she yelped again, backing up, rising to her paws, and raising a paw to clean the gunk out of her face. She started to shake and whimper. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you deserve it," he meowed, suddenly soothing. He touched her nose, avoiding touching any part of her covered in his stench. Her smell underlay his, and he wanted it to stay that way. He felt dark pride swell in his chest and grinned wickedly. He reached for her scruff. "You're coming with me. Kits who don't appreciate what their new mentors do for them don't deserve to go back to camp."

She went limp in his grasp, like all kits when cats grab their scruffs, and he dragged her body out into the north thunderpath, absently hoping the stench would hide her smell, before dragging her into the cornfields beyond. He had no idea where he was going or if he really was going to kill Sorrelkit, and all he could remember was the tightness of her core, his seed dripping out of her, and all he wanted was to be able to do that to her again and again.

A plan started to form in his mind. No matter where he went, she would never be able to find her way home. Might as well take advantage of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Darkstripe the pedophile is the most terrifyingly _horrible_ idea ever. Imagine that. A warrior cat who loves kits younger than five moons because of their super tight cores is a horrible thing because he'd kill them after they reached adulthood and that would be one less she-cat who can give kits to the Clan... and I'm sure there's another reason why that's horrible for a warrior cat to think about but don't ask me right now.**
> 
> **Edit: AND IMAGINE THIS; After those kits are kidnapped reach adulthood, say twelve moons, he'd either kill them or use them as broodmothers for a horde of babies. He'd kill his sons because they're useless to him and might challenge him one day, and then use his daughters as cock sleeves. I DID SAY I COULD THINK UP SOMETHING WORSE, OKAY!?**


	3. Abandoned Kit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is only the beginning of Darkstripe falling down the rabbit hole.

Darkstripe stood over his six-moon-old mate, an almost fully grown she-cat, and sneered down at the two bundles of wet fur suckling at her belly.  
  
Sorrelkit looked over her newborn kits lovingly. "Aren't they beautiful?"  
  
Darkstripe scowled harder. "I'm afraid that you can't keep the red one."  
  
"What?" Sorrelkit looked at him in alarm, glancing down at her red tom. She had a black striped tom as well, but it was the red one that earned her focus.  
  
Seeing the desperation in her eyes, he thought quickly, voice turning soothing. "He's too weak, Sorrelkit, and we need to think about the other kit. You won't have enough milk for all of them since I can only hunt for you some of the times. We have to kill him."  
  
Sorrelkit stared at him, her heartbreak and confusion clear on her face. Darkstripe felt a flash of annoyance at the expression, a flicker of dark jealousy burrowing into his heart.  
  
"Don't you love me, Sorrelkit?" he asked her, his voice half-hurt and half-pleading. "Don't you _trust_ me? I want all our kits to survive, just like you, but I know not all of them can. I would never do anything without a good reason for it. We have to make sure the strong one survives."  
  
Sorrelkit hesitated. Darkstripe could practically see his kidnapping flash through her mind. He internally hissed, but he spoke soothingly. "If I hadn't done what I did for you, you wouldn't even have kits to begin with. You'd still be a silly little kitten wondering what it meant to be a queen."  
  
Sorrelkit whimpered. Darkstripe glared down at the red tom and reached for his scruff, cocking an ear towards Sorrelkit.  
  
"Can I say good-bye?" Sorrelkit whimpered, eyes wide and watery.  
  
He felt another flash of jealousy. "It's easier if you don't. You shouldn't get so attached to your kits, Sorrelkit." He watched her expression break even more. "And you should learn to listen to me. I'm always right. I know what's best for you."  
  
She made another whimpering noise, and Darkstripe growled at her. She instantly backed off, lowering her head into her paws and looking over her kits.  A thought came to mind.  
  
"I'll help you have more kits, Sorrelkit," he mewed. "You'll have so many that you'll be begging me for more."  
  
Hesitantly, Sorrelkit nodded, softly lashing her tail. Unsure if she bought it, Darkstripe padded out of the camp and took the kit to the Thunderpath. It squealed and mewled pathetically, but he ignored its cries as he laid it on the hot black surface and turned away to pad back to his mate's den. It bumbled around blindly, crying for milk.  
  
He stepped into the entrance and looked her over. "What have you decided to call them?"  
  
"Blackthorn," she said instantly.  
  
Realizing that she was giving them Clan names, Darkstripe couldn't help but dislike it, but he nodded his approval and stepped around to her rear. "Why don't we celebrate?" he mewed, mock cheerful. "Raise your tail, my little kit."  
  
Sorrelkit struggled to stand up. Without waiting for her to steady herself, Darkstripe quickly mounted her, relaxing with relief at being inside of her hole. She was no longer tight, but that hardly mattered right now. He was desperate for release. He tried to ignore the cries of the kit, having been torn away from the milk.  
  
"The kit!" Sorrelkit suddenly shouted, twisting around to check to see if her remaining son was okay.  
  
Darkstripe felt a dark flash of anger. He grabbed her scruff and shoved her chin into the dirt, ignoring her mewls of protest as he slammed into her core. He humped in long strokes, his penile spines scrapping her walls and causing her to give a muffled yowl in pleasure-pain. His grip on her scruff kept her in place as he brutally tore into her, building himself up to his release, a little bit of seed leaking out of his member. He had waited almost a moon for this and he wasn't eager to release her.  
  
She grew quiet and still under him, like an obedient little mating pet. He let out a purr of appreciation before he rammed inside as hard as he could and relieved himself. He felt like he was dumping three loads at once into her, and he forced himself out just as he finished, so a drop of white seed beading out of her core and dribbled out like thick, white-gray milk. Darkstripe felt dark satisfaction at the sight, licking his lips.  
  
Sorrelkit collapsed on the ground nearly on top of her son, her whole body relaxed, and started to nuzzle him to her stomach. Darkstripe resisted the urge to swat him aside, to demand her attention for himself. Instead, he padded around them, walking over her front and presenting his member to her muzzle.  
  
"Clean me, my little mate," he cooed, "suck my member dry of my milk."  
  
"But Darkstripe, I'm not a kit anymore," Sorrelkit replied, half-whining.  
  
Darkstripe's tail lashed in anger. "My milk is for grown-ups, Sorrelkit. You're a grown-up. Now, suck me dry."  
  
He waited expectantly and wasn't disappointed when a rough cat tongue licked his member tentatively. He shoved his member closer to her mouth, feeling her teeth and lips touch his member, his barbs scraping against her tongue as it drew into her mouth. She gagged. A dark intrigue fill him, and he pushed himself into her mouth, causing her to gag harder, as he slammed down her throat. She twisted underneath him, recoiling, but he stayed inside, triumphant and aroused.  
  
"No matter what, Sorrelkit, my needs come first," he told the trembling, gagging she-cat. He could feel his member swell and twitch as he spoke, building himself up to unleash his seed. "You are my little hole to do with as I please. That's right, you're Sorrelhole. And the only reason you even have kits is because I let you keep them."  
  
He felt her throat gag around his member, sucking him as she tried to suck in air. He groaned loudly in smug pleasure. His seed shot into her mouth, down her throat. Satisfaction rolled off him in waves as he stepped back, letting her breathe. His cum rolled around her mouth, like foam, dribbling down her chin as her tongue shot out automatically to lick it. Her lips wrinkled in disgust.  
  
He lashed his tail, pleased. "Always remember that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this moment forward, I think this story is going to have more plot. I don't know what my muse is going to do but it has decided to make this a big story. I'm only going to focus on the meat of things, though, so I'll be time skipping a lot. 
> 
> [I guess since I still don't have a lot of time to focus on this story, it's probably for the best if I just skip to the important parts just so I can actually finish it in a reasonable amount of time. So, its going to feel a little like a bunch of oneshots (a series of very short stories) that tie together over all. A lot like it is now.]
> 
> I would like to note that I still have no interest in turning this into serious porn. I'm not saying that future chapters won't feature some very disturbing and disgusting content (that's the whole point of this story; how depraved one character can get if he just went his own way and what results of that), but that I'm not planning to explore it for sake of pleasure. I never intended to do that with this story. I still intent to keep it as dry as I possibly can while still getting the point across. And I hope that you guys are okay with that.
> 
> Also, Merry Christmas!


	4. Ferncloud's kit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darkstripe hopes that Ferncloud will have one of his kits. And she does, two of them. But Darkstripe only wants the female.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the disturbing continues.

Darkstripe padded into a Clan murmuring to each other. Every cat was giving the nursery discrete glances, and he quickly realized what had happened.

"Is Ferncloud okay?" he asked the first warrior he saw, ears pricked forward.

The white tom gave him a confused look. "Of course she is. She's given birth-"

Darkstripe padded away from the warrior, licking his lips excitedly. He fought to keep his excitement and arousal down, even as he imagined the kits that were waiting for him.

A few of them would be Dustpelt's, certainly, but he hoped that one of them would have his black fur, a perfect replacement for the red kit he had left on the thunderpath. When he had come back to check it, he had been satisfied to discover it gone, perhaps picked up by a fox or owl or twoleg. It didn't matter as long as the kit was out of his life. 

He halted at the nursery entrance and blinked in surprise as Dustpelt padded out, his fur ruffled and anger blazing in his eyes. A trickle of fear entered his black heart.

"What happened?" he asked his former apprentice.

The brown half-striped tabby sneered. "They found an abandoned kit," he began. "And now Ferncloud is taking care of it."

Darkstripe blinked at him blankly. "Can I see her kits?" he meowed, dismissing the matter.

"She's too weak right now," meowed Dustpelt. "She needs her rest."

The black tabby bristled as Dustpelt padded away. His claws dug into the ground as he resisted lashing at his apprentice. He hated being denied, but he could do nothing to him while everyone else watched. He glanced around, trying to determine who had overheard Dustpelt, but it didn't look like anyone had. Cautiously, he stuck his head into the den and sniffed carefully for scents other than milk and Ferncloud. No one else was in the den except for the new kits and Ferncloud. The sharp tang of the thunderpath touched his nose, too, but he dismissed it as his eyes landed on Ferncloud and a ripple of dark pleasure crept through his fur.

"So, Ferncloud, how are our kits?" he breathed, padded towards her, keeping his voice smooth and low.

The spotted she-cat started, quickly wrapping her tail around her kits. "Darkstripe!" she half-hissed. "Don't scare me like that."

"What?" he meowed, whiskers twitching in amusement. "They are _our_ kits."

"They're Dustpelt's kits," Ferncloud meowed, voice firm.

"Dustpelt's and mine," he chastised. His yellow eyes pierced the darkness as he gazed down at the wet bundles of fur. He half-expected to be able to spot his kin easily, but his eyes were drawn to a familiar red kit that stood out sharply among the brown and black fur. A prickle of discomfort spread through his paws and he bent his head until he smelled the strong stench of the thunderpath, and he saw dark smears streaked down one of the kit's sides, like the dark thick liquid sometimes found underneath the thunderpath.

Darkstripe's fur bushed out in shock. He hadn't even considered the possibility that ThunderClan would find his son. They didn't usually patrol that border because it marked the beginning of neutral territory, and everyone was more concerned with Blackstar and Sunningrocks. He glared down at the red tom, all of his other more pleasant thoughts ruined.

Ferncloud noticed his look. "I've named him Flarekit." She gestured with her tail to her own kits. "And this is Hollykit, Larchkit, and Birchkit."

He tore his gaze away from the red kit and studied the others thoughtfully. None of the kits had his black-and-gray fur, and, against his will, his lip curled with more than just disappointment. Hollykit and Birchkit looked too much like Dustpelt, but he noted that Larchkit had Flarekit's distinct tabby markings. The stripes cluttered close together like thin trees, her stripes stark black over a grey-brown base, with paler underbelly and throat.

Darkstripe was almost glad that his red son was here, right next to his half-sibling, because now he knew he had a daughter. A dark liquid started to pool inside his loins, and he fought the arousal which threatened to well up and crash into him like a wave. "Larchkit is mine," he meowed, looking Ferncloud in the eye. "You can't deny that her stripes are like mine."

Ferncloud hid the kits under her tail. "So is Flarekit's. It doesn't prove anything."

The black tabby flicked his ears, suddenly giddy with triumph. "Flarekit is also mine, Ferncloud. That's how I know."

"But he was abandoned." Ferncloud looked down at the red tom in confusion, her eyes turning slowly accusatory.

"Yes," meowed Darkstripe, thinking quickly, and forcing pain to show in his voice. "His mother abandoned him. She doesn't like red kits. She's a loner and she grew up thinking all red cats were bad luck. I was looking for him all morning." He stared down at the red kit. "I'm glad he has found a home beside my first love."

"Love?" whispered Ferncloud, tilting her head in confusion. "I thought you were just training me."

His eyes narrowed. "Do you really think we train apprentices for this kind of thing? I'm a tom, not a she-cat. What do I know of raising or giving birth to kits?"

The spotted she-cat stared at him with wide eyes. "But you said-"

"I said I was training you to be a mate. A good core for Dustpelt, and I did, didn't I?" Darkstripe fought his own growing frustration so his voice could go back to being smooth and casual. A thought occurred to him and his voice became silky and threatening. "It would be such a shame if Dustpelt knew you willing took me as a mate before him. How unfaithful you've been to him. It would devestate him. And what will the rest of the Clan think? You took Tigerstar's strongest supporter as a mate."

She fell silent, eyes growing wide. "But that's not what happened."

Darkstripe narrowed his eyes, pleased he had her. His voice turned sympathetic. "Do you really think they'd believe you when they are filled with so much betrayal?"

Ferncloud stared at him and dropped her gaze down to Larchkit.

Darkstripe almost purred. He licked his lips hungrily, practically tasting a wet core already. "But I can make it all go away, Ferncloud," he meowed softly. "If you're willing to let me take Larchkit to Flarekit's mother. She would greatly appreciate it. You don't want to make her unhappy, would you?"

The stony silence which greeted Darkstripe told him more than any words could. She looked up at him, her eyes watery. "Okay, Darkstripe."

He purred. "I'll come for her once she's weened. Just try not to get too attached to her. You wouldn't want to hurt yourself more than you already have."


	5. Larchkit's Kidnapping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darkstripe grows more and more eager to lay into kits. He's no longer going to wait around patiently for them to leave camp for him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The implications in this chapter are super disturbing, even for me. You don't see anything, but I recommend viewer discretion / reigning in your imagination before reading it.

He hadn't seen them in moons, not since he threatened Ferncloud, but he knew they were three moons today and fully weened. He had waited long enough.

Darkstripe slipped silently into the nursery, his nose seeking out Larchkit.

A red furball blinked up at him with yellow eyes. Darkstripe stifled a hiss, claws unsheathed as he imagined swiping them over the little demon's face.

The heavily striped pelt looked almost as red as blood. Darkstripe licked his lips, baffled at the wet streams running down the kit's spine and flanks, and the stench that seemed to fill the air. The yellow eyes, mirrors of his own, blinked tiredly up at him, and the spell was broken.

He fought to keep his voice smooth and soothing. "Go back to sleep, Flarekit."

"Otay," mewed the kit, turning around in his nest and burying his nose into Ferncloud's belly. Darkstripe stared quietly at the tom, half expecting his soft dry pelt to become sticky and wet with blood.

Suppressing a shudder, he returned to his mission, his gaze landing on Ferncloud, sweeping over the other cats, before his gaze landed on Larchkit, his daughter. She looked more and more like him everyday, and he purred to himself. He sucked in her scent and pressed his wet nose into his daughter's soft kit-fur. He sucked in her sweet scent, thoughts of a tight core wrapped around his hungry member dancing through his head, and, before he could stop himself, his tongue lashed out, but he missed his mark and dragged his tongue roughly over her dirthole. Larchkit stirred with a tiny squeak, and Darkstripe tensed, curling and licking his lips over his muzzle half in disgust and half in eagerness.

"Larchkit," he purred softly. "Daddy's here."

The black she-cat yawned and stretched, blinking tiredly up at him with her mother's pale leaf-green eyes. "You're not Dustpelt," she muttered in confusion.

"Of course not," Darkstripe meowed, purring deliciously, "I'm you're _real_ father."

Larchkit's eyes went wide. "No, you aren't," she meowed with a tiny giggle, but her face disagreed with her words.

"I will show you," he purred. "If you leave out the back of the nursery, I can take you to your brother. Your real brother. Don't you want to see him?"

The she-kit blinked owlishly at him and sniffed him. "Are you a StarClan warrior? You smell funny."

Darkstripe bristled in frustration but forced a gentle purred. "You're a smart kit." The words felt like they were being torn out of his mouth like extra teeth. Surely his daughter had seen him around camp at least once, or was his absences so common not even his daughter saw him enough to know he was alive? Or perhaps, and his emotions turned a bit darker, Ferncloud had been trying to prevent her kits from leaving the nursery to prevent him from getting to them. "Go out the back of the nursery, and I'll show you what I can do."

"Really?" Her eyes glittered in excitement. "Okay!"

"Shhh," he mewed, and Larchkit guiltily but excitedly ducked her head, giggling. "Don't be too loud. You wouldn't want to wake the others, would you?"

She opened her mouth before just nodded, letting out another soft giggle. He gestured with her tail for her to go and she bumbled across the nursery floor towards a gap in the back. Darkstripe sneered down at Ferncloud, his gaze falling on her sleeping kits.

"You couldn't hide her from me forever," he whispered, half hoping her ears would flick to tell him she'd heard him. "She's mine now."

He padded out of the nursery and headed towards the dirtplace, glancing around briefly for the guards. They stood vigil at the front of the camp, looking out over the bramble wall towards the tops of the ravine. Darkstripe's eyes turned pale in the moonlight, and he slunk through the dirtplace and around the back towards the rear of the nursery. He smelled his daughter's scent and tracked it further down the ravine.

A tiny voice echoed down from the ravine. "Hello?"

With a hiss, Darkstripe rushed forward. He spotted her black shape stumbling over the rocks, crying for him. He surged out of the dark shadows, causing her to squeak in terror, and he hardly paused as he grabbed her scruff and carried her off up the ravine and into the night. Her soft body bang against his chest as he kept his head high, and he gulped eagerly, his paws kicking up to hit her back. He could practically feel the mint leaves becoming less and less effective as his stench grew. Finally, he couldn't hold it off anymore and dropped her to the ground.

"O-ow." Larchkit blinked up at him and looked around. "Where's my brother, StarClan dad?"

Darkstripe felt his groin twitch and squirt a tiny bit of precum. StarClan, he had been waiting too long for this.

"I'm going to show you," he began, half-panting and half-purring. "I'm going to show you how I am your real father. Why don't I teach you a new crouch?"


	6. Peer Pressure & Blackmail

"I brought you a new kit."

Darkstripe set the black tabby she-cat next to his only son, enjoying his own scent on her tiny fur. The tired kit whimpered and squirmed, turning into the familiar smell of warm milk, before settling into a deep, tired and painful sleep.

Sorrelhole lifted her head and turned towards the smell and noise of the new kit. She carefully smelled the she-kit, her brow pinching in confusion.

"To replace the one we lost," Darkstripe assured her.

"I-" The pale tortoiseshell blinked at Darkstripe, a dozen things racing through her mind. Darkstripe hated that. He could no longer tell what she was thinking. Finally, she dipped her head. "Thank you, Darkstripe."

Darkstripe lashed his tail in frustration. "Blackthorn is almost weened," he said finally. "I will start teaching him how to hunt soon. Until then, I will be away." He watched her carefully for a reaction, wondering if she knew he was going back to their Clan and might attempt to follow him. "There is prey on your freshkill pile."

Sorrelhole nodded, blinking. "Darkstripe, I am pregnant again." She curled her tail around her slightly round stomach.

The black tabby tom looked over her dappled pelt with pride, feeling his chest puff out before he licked it flat. "As is natural," he purred silkily. "You're an adult now, and your duty is to me and my kits. This is exactly what you have always wanted."

Sorrelhole's brows started to pinch again.

Darkstripe felt his patience wane and frowned. "I will bring you some borage leaves. They will help you to produce enough milk."

"Thank you," meowed Sorrelhole. Darkstripe turned to leave. "Do you know-?"

Startled, the dark warrior's head snapped around to stare at Sorrelhole. She wilted slightly under the expression.

"Do you know how to get back to... to...?"

She trailed off. It had been nearly five moons since she had been a kit in ThunderClan. Normally, she'd have been an apprentice for nearly two moons, but had spent the last three moons pregnant and then taking care of kits for a moon. She had already forgotten what the Clan was even called, but those old dreams from her kithood still hovered wordlessly at the back of her mind.

Darkstripe gave her his best pitying look. "You wanted to be an adult, Sorrelhole, and I have made you an adult. That was the life of a kit. You can never go back."

The pale tortoiseshell looked heartbroken. "Okay," she meowed, gazing down at her kits blankly. She curled her tail grimly around them. "Okay."

He watched for a long second, waiting for her to say something else. When she said nothing, he turned away and padded out of the little camp.

Darkstriped stopped only to lick his groin, tasting the faint blood from his recent fun. His thoughts had already turned towards the excuse he would have to give to the Clan for coming back so late and whatever few prey he could find on the way there.

He found some mint leaves to roll in, then padded through the cornfield and across the Thunderpath into ThunderClan territory. He stopped every time he heard a noise of prey in the undergrowth and crept towards it to kill it. He managed to scrounge up a scrawny mouse and a thrush. He felt uneasy in the silence of treecutplace but thankful. The prey here were used to loud noises and sounds that they ignored and weren’t used to small sounds of predators in the shadows.

The camp was in uproar when he showed up, carrying his two piece of prey, and he halted. A tiny bit of nervousness made his tail-tip twitch, especially when he saw Firestar standing at the top of the highrock. The red tom saw him but said nothing, his gaze sweeping over the rest of the Clan.

“Dustpelt, you’ll lead a search party over Snakerocks. Ashfur, take a patrol to the RiverClan border. I’ll lead a patrol near twolegplace. If Larchkit is anywhere, we will find her.”

Darkstripe felt his paws tremble with sudden emotion.

He dropped off his prey and joined the Clan, taking a spot next to Longtail. The silver tabby twitched his tail nervously.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting down and channeling his newfound energy into cleaning himself, which helped to calm him down. He could no longer smell Larchkit on himself, which helped him relax.

"One of Ferncloud's kits is missing." Longtail lashed his tail, a spark of horror in his eyes. "Larchkit must have sneaked out in the middle of the night through the dirtplace. No one can find her scent anywhere."

Darkstripe blinked, his thoughts dancing. "I’ve hunted all over treecutplace today. I never scented any kits there."

Longtail let out a soft mrrow of frustration. “Where could she be?”

“We should be looking for badger and fox-scent,” Darkstripe meowed firmly. “If not those beasts, it might have been an owl.”

“Poor Ferncloud,” meowed Longtail, glancing towards the nursery.

“Dustpelt is going to be searching the whole forest for Larchkit,” Darkstripe calmly mewed, imagining the tom searching high and low for a kit that was no longer in the territory. He almost felt sorry for him. Almost. The she-kit’s tight core came to mind.

 _She’s mine now,_ he thought, choking on a dark purr. He quickly rose to his paws.

“I’m going to speak with Ferncloud,” he decided. “Perhaps I can help to comfort her.”

Longtail blinked at him in confusion, opened his mouth to object, before he thought better of it. “Maybe you should take a thrush with you.”

Darkstripe nodded and grabbed the very thrush he caught earlier. He padded calmly to the nursery, feeling a dark smugness fill him. When he saw Ferncloud, Goldenflower was pressing into her side to help comfort her. The spotted golden tabby looked up at Darkstripe in surprise.

“Darkstripe? Do you have any news?”

The dark tabby almost said yes but shook his head. “The patrols just left.” His gaze landed meaningfully on Ferncloud. “May I speak with her, alone?”

Goldenflower blinked at him in surprise. “Alright,” she meowed. She gave Ferncloud a lick on the ear before padded out of the nursery.

Dakrstripe moved closer to Ferncloud, his voice dropping to a hiss. He suddenly felt the need to convince her that Larchkit was fine and well and whole and hearty and that this entire search party was a waste of time. “Larchkit is alive, but no one will ever find her. She’s in some distant twolegnest, growing fat on plenty of kittypet milk.”

Ferncloud looked at him, tears in her eyes. “But I want her here!”

“You want the whole Clan to know who the father of that kit is?” he hissed, lips threatening to pull back into a snarl. “Do you want Dustpelt to know you took another mate before him?”

The spotted tabby shrank in on herself, shaking. Darkstripe waited a beat before he stepped forward, wrapping his tail around her and pressing comforting into her body. The muscle under her soft fur almost made him pull away in disgust. She wasn’t his type anymore.

“The kit is fine,” he forced out. “I will check up on her every few days. All you have to do is make sure you never follow me, Ferncloud, because if you do, you’ll be bearing me another kit that you’ll have to say good-bye to. Do you understand?”

Ferncloud stared at him with wide eyes, her sobbing stifled under his sharp stare. “Y-yes, Darkstripe.”

Darkstripe smiled, pleasure spreading up from his paws to his nose. He almost hoped she would follow him to find her kit, just so he could do this all over again. His secret power over her felt so good to use. “Good.”


	7. The Princess

After two days, ThunderClan gave up Larchkit for dead. The monsters of treecutplace masked her scent, loudly roaring as they plowed through the trees, kicking up tree dust and spraying their monster stench everywhere. There was no way in StarClan that she could be found.

For almost a whole moon, Darkstripe felt like nothing could stop him. It reminded him of when a fire swept through ThunderClan's territory, obliterating what was left of Sorrelkit's scent trail moons ago. He had stood in the fire as it roared and sparked around him, whiskers pushed up into a vicious toothy grin.

_Even the twolegs defended him!_

Darkstripe's gaze darted around the camp clearing until his gaze landed on Ferncloud, who crouched outside of the nursery. His loins started to burn with a need to breed, but he forced himself to turn away and padded out of the camp before his stench could alert anyone to his thoughts. If anyone asked about him later, he would claim he had gone out hunting.

At the top of the ravine, a familiar hated scent hit his nostrils. Curious, Darkstripe followed the fresh smell to the very edge of ThunderClan territory, three foxlengths away from the twolegplace border wall. A flash of red fur in sunlight caught his eye and he gave a startled hiss and crawled into the nearest bush.

Firestar perched on the wooden fence, murmuring quietly to a pretty brown she-cat spotted with light cream. She raised a white paw and calmly wiped it over her face. Darkstripe could see the fat clinging to her soft muscles. He sneered in disgust. Was Firestar taking a mate outside of the Clan? He crouched lower, feeling his loins brush the scratchy ground, and hissed in annoyance. But he waited patiently, watching Firestar and the she-cat share tongues.

Eventually, as the sun reached it's highest point, Firestar dipped his head and leaped down from the fence. Darkstripe finally heard a snatch of his words, and it made his fur spike up in shock.

"Good bye, sister!" Firestar took another two steps towards the forest. "Stay safe!"

The she-cat called after him, and Firestar flicked an ear. Without another word, the ThunderClan leader padded towards into the forest, right passed where Darkstripe was hiding. The gray-black warrior could sense the red tom sniffing at his scent suspiciously, but he moved on without checking the bush.

 _You'll regret that_ , Darkstripe thought, a familiar dark pool of excitement warming his member as he gazed up at the clueless she-cat.  _Your sister is mine now!_

He forced himself to calm down, but it was already too late to stop it --- no, he didn't want to stop it. His own stench was arousing him now. He stepped out of the bushes, raced up to the top of the fence, and froze, hind claws digging into the bark, poised at the top and looking into the garden. His gaze landed on a pudgy black and white tom, and his excitement instantly cooled.

The she-cat bristled at his appearance. "Hello," she meowed.

"What are you doing here?" asked the tom. "Are you a friend of Rusty?"

"Yes!" meowed Darkstripe, feeling his member shrink inside himself. He internally mourned the loss, silently promising to kill the tom the next time he saw him. "My name is--" He realized he couldn't tell them his real name if he wanted to avoid trouble with Firestar. A crow landed on the roof. "Black...tail." He almost licked his lips. "I am a warrior of ThunderClan." 

"What are you doing here?" meowed the she-cat.

"If you're looking for Firestar," meowed the tom. "He already left."

Darkstripe nodded to himself. "Yes," he meowed. "I saw. Does he come here often?"

The brown-and-cream she-cat shrugged. "Not really."

The black tabby felt relieved.

"I have to go," meowed the black-and-white tom. He launched himself up the fence, clawing for a few heartbeats just to pull himself to the top. He licked his thick sides. "My housefolk will be worried about me."

"See you, Smudge," meowed the she-cat.

"See you, Princess," responded the tom. He gave Darkstripe a polite nod. "Good day, Blacktail."

"I should be getting inside, too," meowed Princess, fluffing out her thick coat. She gave Darkstripe a curious stare. "Perhaps we can talk later?"

"I count on it," meowed Darkstripe, feeling his excitement return. He watched Smudge padded down the line of twolegnests to his own, feeling more and more relieved the farther the tom walked away.

But Smudge stopped at the third garden down, and Darkstripe realized he'd have to be careful with Princess if he didn't want the fat tom to stop him. Something creaked loudly near the she-cat's nest and Darkstripe looked down only to realize Princess had already gone inside. He clawed the bark in frustration.

_Next time._


	8. Unaware

Darkstripe padded out of the cornfield after another day of successful hunting. A few harvest mice dangled lifelessly from his teeth, having grown fat off the corn. Darkstripe suspected that it would earn him more respect and less side-eyes if he bring back the fat prey than no prey at all.

He padded across the thunderpath, pausing in a puddle of monster liquid to let the thunderpath stench erase the stench of the cornfield, hoping his Clanmates would assume he hunted them near the thunderpath rather than across the border in no-Clan's territory, where prey was fatter and richer than in the forest. Unable to stand the feel of the liquid in his fur, he padded towards treecutplace back to camp.

It was quiet when he entered as most cats had already scurried off to their nests. He dropped his catch on the prey pile and made for the warrior's den, not bothering to take any prey with him.

"Darkstripe," meowed voice, and Whitestorm stepped out of the warrior's den. "I told you to be on the border patrol this morning."

"And I told you I was going hunting," Darkstripe growled. "I brought back enough prey to feed the queens and then some, so why don't we forget that and move on?"

Whitestorm frowned. "I know you're having trouble adjusting to Firestar being our leader."

"I have more important things to worry about than that," meowed Darkstripe smoothly, almost bored. "I have to focus on improving my hunting techniques before leaf-bare sets in. Unlike some of us, my dark pelt won't be of much help when snow falls."

Whitestorm's whiskers twitched in bemusement. "You're already a fine hunter, Darkstripe."

"Just let me be," Darkstripe meowed, pushing his way into the warrior's den.

At least, he concluded, he didn't have to smell Firestar every time he came back. The tom's scent was gone from the warrior's den, even though Cloudtail's still remained. He made his way over to his nest, which was pressed up against the wall far away from the white tom. He curled up and fell almost instantly asleep.

When Darkstripe awoke to a paw prodding into his side, he immediately recognized the scent of Longtail.

"Whitestorm wants us on the dawn patrol," meowed the black-and-tan warrior.

Darkstripe almost hissed to himself. "If I must," he meowed, rising slowly to his paws. Longtail watched him for a heartbeat, before he nodded and padded out.

The black tabby scowled. He didn't deserve to be pressured in to doing Clan life. He was better than this, and he deserved far better.

His thoughts drifted to Firestar's sister, and he fought the dark liquid pooling between his legs and making his member rise. He quickly licked himself, grimacing at his own taste, and feeling himself calm down. Growling to himself, he forced his way out of the warriors den and moodily joined Longtail along with the rest of the patrol. They trailed behind as Runningwind took them around the whole territory.

"It's good that you didn't leave us for Tigerstar," meowed Longtail quietly.

Darkstripe flicked his ears ruefully. "I could care less about Tigerstar."

Longtail twitched his ears. "Regardless, it's good to see that you're at least trying to get along with our new leader."

"It doesn't matter to me who is in charge of ThunderClan." _As long as they don't know about what else I've been doing_. He tried not to think about that. He probably already smelled faintly of it considering how easily aroused he was getting. "I have more important things to worry about."

Longtail nodded and the two fell silent.

"You've been away from the Clan a lot," meowed Longtail slowly. "Why are you out so often?"

In a blink, Darkstripe realized why Longtail had talked about Tigerstar before. The tom was dead, so why was his former mentor and friend sneaking out? He fought the nervousness that made his fur stand on end and his tail flick. "Hunting," he meowed. "Why do you and Whitestorm have to be so concerned about where and when I decide to hunt?"

"But you bring back so little prey," meowed Longtail.

"I need the practice," hissed Darkstripe. "I've been getting too easily distracted."

"Thinking?" Longtail asked innocently.

Darkstripe scowled and picked up the pace. Longtail hurried to follow.

"What have you been thinking about?"

"Would you shut up!?" he snarled.

Longtail flinched away. "I just want to help," he mewed quietly.

Darkstripe snorted. "Whatever."

The dark tabby ignored Longtail's relief and wondered how he was going to prevent the Clan from learning about his activities. He needed to make sure his son could hunt, yes, but that was growing increasingly impossible because of Whitestorm's plans. Besides, his son was barely four moons old and his daughter was even younger, and getting Sorrelhole to hunt for herself was simply out of the question. He couldn't have his pet running around and meeting other cats and telling them about what's he'd been doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think with this chapter I've completely given up on trying to keep track of this time line and trying to parallel it to the canon one. I've already screwed up with Ferncloud being a warrior, because that happens in Sunset. I probably should have had a ton more Ferncloud/Darkstripe moments, but I need to skip ahead so I can actually finish this story.


	9. Darkstripe's Son

The smell of the cornfield surrounded him and his son as Darkstripe led him to a place heavy with the scent of prey. Harvest mice had been through here to collect from the corn and their droppings and smell were everywhere.

"Remember your crouch," meowed Darkstripe, his son padding in front of him.

Blackthorn nodded and crouched, careful to keep his paws from stirring the leaves. A fat harvest mouse lazily circled the base of a cornstalk, oblivious to anything but the smell of food. Blackthorn landed on the mouse and bit.

"Good job," meowed Darkstripe. "Just keeping doing this for your mother and I'll reward you with a mate."

"Do I really have to sleep away from mother?" asked Blackthorn, frowning at the freshkill.

"Yes, you do," he meowed. "Your mother has to take care of the new kits and doesn't need you trampling over them."

"What about Shadowpool?" That was the name Sorrelhole had given Larchkit.

Darkstripe twitched his whiskers irritably. "Your mate still has a few moons until she is ready for breeding."

The black tom-kit nodded and picked up his prey. "When can I see you again?"

"In three days," meowed Darkstripe. "I have someone else to visit."

"When can I go with you?" Blackthorn demanded. "I've never been out of the cornfields!"

Darkstripe slashed at Blackthorn's ears, making the kit yelp and duck his head. A drop of blood beaded on the kit's ear-tip.

"You exist only to obey me, Blackthorn," he snarled. "I gave you everything you have and everything you will have."

Blackthorn watched Darkstripe with wide eyes.

"If you left," meowed Darkstripe. "Who would feed and protect your mother?"

" _You_ could," meowed Blackthorn.

This time the paw came down heavily on the tom's face. Yelping, Blackthorn backed up, but Darkstripe followed him, raining down blows on the black kit's skull until he was shaking and whimpering on the ground.

"Do not disobey me!" he snarled. "You will feed your mother everyday and cease with these stupid questions."

Flinching, the black kit stared up at his father, terror in his eyes.

Darkstripe growled and lashed his tail. "Do you understand?"

Blackthorn nodded quickly.

"Good, now pick up your prey and put it on the freshkill pile. I'll be back in three days." Darkstripe paused. "If you leave, I'll know and I'll find you."

The four-moon kit nodded and quickly scrambled to return to his new nest, disappearing between corn stalks. Darkstripe waited until he could no longer hear him before he headed towards the thunderpath and back towards ThunderClan territory. After he reached the treecutplace, he followed the fence line on his right and twolegplace in front of him. He paused briefly to hunt a squirrel and carried the freshkill the rest of the way to the she-cat's garden.

"Blacktail?" meowed Smudge, blinking up at him from his own garden. "Where are you headed?"

"Visiting Princess," responded the tom, suspicion in his voice. "I would like to be alone."

Smudge nodded. "Okay. Have fun."

 _Dumb tom_ , he thought spitefully, feeling suddenly light on his paws. He picked up his pace until he could launch himself into Princess' garden. _This is it._

"Princess?" he hissed softly, fur standing on end as he padded closer to the nest.

"Blacktail?" The cream-and-white she-cat stepped out of the nest-flap and stared at him in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to say hello," he meowed, dropping the squirrel. "I thought you might like to try a little bit of real food."

Princess blinked down at the freshkill in disinterest, and Darkstripe felt his fur fluff up in annoyance.

"I'm not really interested," she meowed.

"It's really good," he mewed. "I caught it just for you."

The she-cat blinked at him and nodded. "I'll eat it later."

Darkstripe lashed his tail. "I was hoping to see you take a bite. I want to know if you like it or not. You might be more interested in mouse, shrew, bird, or mole."

Princess' whiskers twitched. "Well, if you insist."

She stepped out of the flap fully and made a few steps towards him. His eyes roved hungrily over her pelt as she bent down to take a bite of the squirrel. Her lips twisted in disgust but when her tongue lashed over the bloody gaping wound, she paused and took a bite.

"Its," she began, chewing thoughtfully before she swallowed. "It tastes wet." She bent her head to take another larger bite.

Darkstripe could feel himself getting aroused. "I can bring a mouse tomorrow, if you wish. I know you'll love it. No cat doesn't, unless they're RiverClan."

The cream and white she-cat nodded. "Okay." She eyed Darkstripe thoughtfully. "Did you want to talk about something?"

Darkstripe shook his head. "I just wanted to say hello and shares some of my freshkill. We can share the rest if you want? And maybe share tongues?"

Princess nodded. "Sure. Sounds like fun."

With a dark purr, the black tabby quickly helped Princess finish off the squirrel, making sure that most of it went to the she-cat. Then, they curled up together under a bush to help groom each other.

"You don't have many fleas for a forest cat," meowed Princess.

Darkstripe purred in pride. "I am the best at keeping my fur clean of such filth. I am the cleanest cat in ThunderClan, after all."

She frowned. "Is it that bad in the forest?"

"No," meowed Darkstripe, annoyed. "Most cats just don't even bother to keep their fur clean. It has nothing to do with the forest itself."

"Sounds like a lot of hard work."

He purred in pride again. "It is but it's always worth it."

Princess shrugged. "Our owners deal with all that. They give us liquid on our shoulders to keep the ticks and fleas away."

"We have mousebile," meowed Darkstripe. "We don't need the twolegs to make that stuff for us. We never need twolegs."

She nodded to herself. "I know a rogue who has fleas. Maybe you could teach him how to use mousebile?"

Darkstripe felt his insides grow cold. "Maybe," he said noncommitally. A loner? Darkstripe just remembered that Cloudtail was Firestar's sister's kit and this was Firestar's sister. That loner could be the father and competition. "I think I would like to meet this rogue friend of yours."

Princess nodded. "I'm sure you guys would get along nicely."

Darkstripe doubted it, but he kept that opinion to himself.


End file.
